


Bearing his Mark

by Floris_Oren



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Attempted Murder, Bondage, Branding, Gags, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, I have at least four where Obi gets adopted and love, Integration AU, M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi needs a hug but never gets it, Original Clone Characters, Please do not read this if you have mental issues about supposed suicide, Punishment, Solitary Confinement, Spanking, an au of my Jewel of Mandalore Story, but I do want everyone to be safe when reading, do be careful and take care of yourself first, if any of these tags make you double think your life choices, it doesn't actually happen in fic, mentions of suicide but that's not what happened at all, nope - Freeform, not this fic though, somewhat evil Mandalorians, than maybe find one of my more wholesome mandalorian fics, this is because I wanted to write something different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floris_Oren/pseuds/Floris_Oren
Summary: Obi-Wan tried to escape and now he gets punished.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 132





	Bearing his Mark

**Author's Note:**

> In any other story this would be the point where Obi-Wan has been enslaved by Jango fett , Ruler of Mandalore, and Satine's whole faction would have fallen like the Titanic they are. Buuuuttttt....I am not writing that story. Nope. This is just a scene from what should be a larger fic. 
> 
> Also, if you have problems with any of the content listed in the tags, please do not read this. I do not advocate for any of this personally, this is just fiction and should be treated as such. If you have a hard time distinguishing between fiction and reality, than you need to seek out professional help. 
> 
> also, I do not post hotline numbers because I believe that if someone is really serious about it, they should do it themselves.

Obi-Wan trembled even though the forge was hotter than was comfortable; the chains above him rattled as he hung onto the strand connecting him to the wooden beam of the ceiling. The forge is empty except for the Mand’alor. Jango had strung him up a half hour before, and hadn’t touched him since. 

Obi-Wan bit down on the ball gag in his mouth; doing his best to not struggle too much. He knew that trying an escape so early on would land him somewhere not pleasant. He wasn’t expecting this though. 

“I am not disappointed in you, dear.” Jango said, speaking for the first time. “I knew you would try to escape.” 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath in, then out. Centering himself. Even without the Force, he could do his best not to panic. 

“And that is why this punishment is going to leave marks.” Jango said. “Because next time I won’t be so kind.” 

Obi-Wan had to remember that Mandalorians had a different definition of kindness, this probably was to any other slave. Jango walked around his prisoner’s naked body, just taking the other in. He was slender, Jango could count his ribs, that needed to be fixed. 

Obi-Wan would have to earn that, he hadn’t been allowed to kneel at his Master’s feet and get fed tidbits from the table. He wasn’t anywhere near trained enough for that. 

Jango picked up a leather strap from an anvil. Obi-Wan did his best to not breathe too quickly as Jango paced behind him. He supposed he should be glad that it wasn’t a real whip. He knew how much that could hurt from experience. 

He heard the snap, and a second later pain blossomed along his left cheek. He jerked in his chains, but he did not let a sound out. Though he knew it wouldn’t be long before he would. Obi-Wan was not prideful and didn’t really want to seek out this type of treatment. 

He understood why. Jango had a reputation to uphold. His failure meant he had to endure whatever this punishment was, and do his best to not start breaking down or sobbing. He was a Jedi Knight, he could do it. 

The strikes piled upon one another, making it harder and harder to not twitch upon impact. Jango started a circular pattern working his way towards the middle of Obi-Wan’s rear. Then he started down the legs. Then up, and eventually Obi-Wan couldn’t help the little sounds of pain he made. 

Then Jango started the pattern all over again, this time the smacks were harder; “Just needed a bit of a warm up.” Jango said. Obi-Wan swallowed as quietly as he could, using the smacking sounds to disguise it, and his fear as it welled up in his chest. 

_ Fear is of the dark side, you knew this was coming... _ Obi-Wan told himself as the pattern repeated again and again. 

&*&*&*&

Jango stepped back, he could help but feel pride in his mirci't; the man was doing his best to not thrash as that would upset his balance, and probably pull his arms out of their sockets. Jango frowned, he paced towards a lever to give Obi-Wan a bit of slack. He groaned when he was flat footed once again. 

Jango started the spanking again, Obi-Wan grimaced as the pain blossomed across his back side once more, but again, he did his best to bear the pain. He was in the wrong, so why shouldn’t he just take his punishment? 

Jango stopped when the light pink of the ass in the beginning became a hot cherry red. He didn’t want to make it black and purple, this time. 

“That’s for escaping, this next part is so that everyone knows who to return you too. If those farmers hadn’t contacted Sundari security you would have been long gone with any story, am I right?” Jango said. He put the strip of leather away and pulled Obi-Wan around to face the furnace. Along metal rod had been put in there earlier and the automatic billows had made certain that the fire had stayed hot. 

Obi-Wan looked perplexed until Jango pulled the metal rod out of the fire and brandished the tip of it. “We used to brand enemies in the ancient days.” Jango explained. 

“You aren’t an enemy but you will always know where you belong and to whom you belong.” 

&*&*&*&

Obi-Wan nodded. And stood as tall as he could, gripping the chains. There was nothing he could do or say to change Jango’s mind. What he’d explain to the Council if he ever was able to escape for real - he didn’t know. 

&*&*&*&*

Jango took a moment to decide where to put it. Of course he couldn’t mar that beautiful face, tear streaked as it was. Obi-Wan is doing his best to be brave in the face of the pain that is yet to come. 

That deserved a reward. 

“Hold still.” Jango said gently. Obi-Wan nodded at him again. 

Jango applied the brand to Obi-Wan’s left hip. Skin seared; the smell of burning flesh stank the air around them. Obi-wan screamed. If he had the Force - Jango knew - he would have been able to control it. Something deep and dark inside of Jango loved the idea that the man before him was blind to the Force thanks to the black control collar around his neck. 

Jango waited a few more seconds before taking the brand away. What stood in the metal’s place was now an indention of the monosaurus, the symbol for the House of Fett. 

It’s angry and red; it’s started to bleed a bit. Jango put the brand down and called in the medic he had on standby for after the branding. 

“I need to get him out of the chains.” the medic said, none too happy but understanding of the punishment nonetheless. 

“Do what you must.” Jango agreed. 

&*&*&*&

Much later Obi-Wan lay in bed on his side. He’d been restrained with leather cuffs, small locks made certain that he could wiggle out of the soft restraints. He lay on the hip that wasn't wounded. His ass hadn’t been treated, seeing as how it was a justified punishment. 

It’s way past midnight and the medical ward has the standby lights glowing; he’d been checked on several times throughout the night; he glanced at the chrono on the bedside table. Another twenty and they would check on him again. 

So far that had been the pattern. 

Slowly, the door of the closet opened and a blonde head poked out. Seeing that the coast was clear, Satine stepped out. Dressed in the janitorial uniform, she looked better than Obi-Wan knew he did. 

“I heard about what happened.” she said. “And we all came to an agreement…” 

Satine made to work what was arguably a little bit above a slave, because she was Mandalorian after all, and was kind of Jango. He didn’t care for her, was glad that she and her family had lost clout and was happy to have regained his place as the Rule of Mandalore. 

“What?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“We have decided that you can’t languish here, you know too much about us…” 

“He hasn’t asked me anything…” 

“I’m planning another coup, and I don’t need you blabbing your mouth about it.” Satine replied. 

Obi-Wan frowned. He had come against the Council’s decision out of a sense of obligation to her, and that had gotten him nowhere but used by the New Mandalorians. 

The True Mandalorians just wanted him to earn a place at their Ruler’s feet; “what are you talking about?” he asked. 

“I am sorry to do this…” Satine grabbed his face, Obi-Wan is in no condition to fight her, she’s able to lever his jaw open and from her uniform she produces a small brown bottle. She has to use her teeth to get the stopper out, then she’s pouring it down his throat. 

&*&*&*&*&

Obi-Wan is convulsing on the bed, Satine can’t watch as her former lover dies. So she quietly makes her way out of the ward. Unbeknownst to her, the medic, a clone - because of course Jango would make an army of himself - decided that it was time to see if his patient needed some water and then the alarm rang. Other medics rushed to the room to help. 

They had to get him undone from the restraints and figure out what had caused this, from their medical records this particular slave hadn’t a history of convulsing. 

Someone stepped on something, making it roll away. Another stooped down to get it. Glue glared as he smelled the contents. 

“We have the anti-dote,” he said. “It’s Hecate.” 

*&*&*&*&*&

Jango was disturbed from his sleep by a guard who told him of the attempted suicide; he was not happy as he marched down to the medical ward, half dressed with his dressing grown billowing out and behind him. 

Obi-Wan was solemne when Jango walked in. “What do you think you were doing?” he asked. 

Obi-Wan looked somewhat perturbed. “I didn’t do it. I’ve been naked this whole time…” 

“Why? You know you belong to me.” Jango was angry and it would have given Obi-Wan whiplash if he had been able to feel the Force. 

“Please, I didn’t…” 

“I don’t care, you’re going to regret this act for the rest of your life.” 

&*&*&*&

Satine’s murder plot hadn’t gone right, Obi-Wan sighed, he didn’t know if he wished to be dead or if he was grateful the medics had been able to save him. 

Either way, the grey cell he found himself in was not what he had expected. He wore a grey uniform that was made from a heavy cloth, virtually impossible to break. His meals came from a droid and everything was automated. 

There was a program who guided him through the day. Otherwise he knew he’d just curl up in bed and be depressed. But the program made certain he was up at the same time every day, he was fed at the same time, he exercised and did some study. 

And every time he got to shower, he had to stand in front of a mirror and look at the brand. And wonder, what it would have felt like to be in Jango’s arms right then. 

He refused to cry until the night cycle came. When the program ceased bossing him around and he could pull the covers up and over his head. And for once he wouldn’t feel guilty about it. 

There was no one to see. No one to hear. He was virtually alone. Not even the Force was there for comfort. And eventually he ran out of tears as the days ran on and on. Everything was the same. 

But he ate less, and listlessly went through the program, waiting for the bed to roll out of the wall so he could just lie down and rest - all the while - wondering when it would all be over. 

  
  



End file.
